


Ready or Not

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair have sex, and then Jim has some questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready or Not

## Ready or Not

JC

Author's homepage: <http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci/>

* * *

His last rational thought had been, 'Has Blair always been like this?  Ready to fuck at the drop of a hat?' 

Jim was bent over the desk in his partner's cluttered office, and Blair was deep inside him, whispering in his ear, "...so good...so good...so good... ", and it _was_ good.  So good, he was going to come all over the paper that was wrinkling up beneath his dick, and he was hoping, but not really caring, that it wasn't anything important, because it was going to get _very_ wet and _very_ sticky.  Even that unpleasantly rough sensation, as the paper got more crinkled, wouldn't stop him, because Blair's cock was up his ass, and Blair's voice was in his ear, and it was _so good_. 

Almost too soon, Blair was saying, "...coming...coming...coming...", and he was right again, because they _were_ coming, and coming, and coming some more. 

Afterwards, as they cleaned themselves up, tossing out the piece of paper that Blair had positively declared unimportant, Jim started wondering again.  Had Blair always been so ready?  Not just willing, but _ready_?  He watched Blair dispose of the condom (which he'd had handy), and put away the lube (which he had also had handy) before straightening out his clothes, making himself presentable, and he had one thought running through his mind.  Had Blair always walked around so _prepared_? 

Over a period of time, Jim tried to put it to the test.  Hoping to catch his partner off guard and unaware.  Even going so far as to drag him off unexpectedly at the police station one day, and push him into a basement storage closet.  Only to have Blair pull out a tube of lube from deep inside his front jeans pocket, slick up the erection that he fished out of Jim's pants, and sink down on it right there between the dusty cartons of case files that dated back about twenty years. 

A hell of a good time, but not exactly what he had been looking for.  So, Jim decided that maybe a more direct route was called for.  Time to ask some questions.  After all, that's what detectives do. 

* * *

"Hey, Sandburg?"  Jim tried to sound like he was just starting a casual conversation while reading through the sports page. 

Blair didn't look up from his computer when he answered.  "Yeah?" 

'Good', Jim thought.  'This could work.  Toss out a few questions while he's sort of preoccupied.  Just keep your eyes on the paper, Ellison.' 

"Remember a couple of weeks ago when I came by your office to take you out to lunch... and we didn't go out to lunch?" 

"Yeah."  Jim didn't have to look up to know that Blair was smiling. 

"Or...the other day in the basement at the station?" 

" _Ohhh_ , yeah." 

Jim clutched the edges of the newspaper tighter, willing Blair to keep on working. 

"Well, you seemed kind of ready.  Have you always been that ready?" 

"Ready?" 

"Yeah, ready to... do it." 

Blair finally looked up, and Jim tried to relax his fingers to stop the newspaper from making that shaky, rustling noise. 

"I thought you wanted to do it." 

Keeping his eyes on what now looked like the world's longest run-on sentence, Jim responded, "Oh, I did, I was just curious about why you seemed so..." 

"Ready." 

"Right... ready." 

"And the problem with being ready is..." 

"There's no problem." 

Jim knew immediately that that had been the wrong answer.  He could almost see the situation spinning totally out of his control.  Blair got up and came over to where he was sitting on the couch, and now he could no longer pretend that it was idle chitchat.  Because now _Blair_ was curious, and he would want answers, and although Jim was the detective, Blair was _much_ better in the 'get info from your partner' department. 

"Jim, what is it that you're trying so hard _not_ to say?  It can't be that you don't _want_ me to want to have sex with you... can it?  Because that would be ridiculous.  Is it that you think I want it _too_ much?  Because I seem to remember that it was _you_ who dragged _me_ to the basement, and you didn't seem interested in doing an in-depth probe into kidnapping cases in Cascade in the '80's." 

Blair on the offensive was a force to be reckoned with.  Jim just wanted to pick up his ball and go home, especially since the damned newspaper was rustling again. 

Blair snatched the offending item, tossing it to the floor, and the loft was silent for one blessed minute. 

"Ellison!  You started this  what's on your mind, man?" 

"Jesus, it was nothing, Chief.  It wasn't about how much you want it, exactly.  I was just wondering if you had always been that prepared?  You have wipes in your desk, condoms in your bag, you've had lube in your _pocket_  and there was even that one time when you pulled out a pair of _my_ clean underwear." 

"Lucky thing, too.  You sort of came in your pants in that bathroom stall, you know." 

"That's not the point!  So what, you just walk around ready for people to come up to you and want to have sex?" 

Blair got quiet.  Not a good sign, but Jim ignored it. 

"So, the next busty TA that steps into your field of vision, responding to that infamous Sandburg 'flirt and fuck' charm, you can just whip out your supplies and get on down to business, right?" 

"Or the next _well-hung_ TA," Blair returned with deadly calm. 

Jim glared, tense jaw muscle jumping into action, but Blair dismissed it. 

"Hey, I'm trying hard not to be offended, here.  Don't get pissed at me because I'm starting to snap back.  Now let me get this straight.  You're not upset because I'm willing to do the wild thing with you, anywhere, anytime.  Which is good.  You're not upset because I seem to be _ready_ to do it anywhere, anytime.  Also good.  But you _are_ upset because, for some reason, you think that the fact that I'm always prepared, means that I won't be able to keep from fucking anything that moves into what you feel I've mapped out as my Fair Game for Screwing Territory?  Is that it, Jim?  Because if that's it, that's not good at all.  In fact, I think that could very well be one of the most fucked-up things that you've ever said to me." 

That _was_ it.  Jim knew with horrible certainty that that had indeed always been it.  Not curiosity about past habits, but the sneaking insecurity over present and future practices.  He couldn't believe how easily he had fooled himself.  He couldn't believe that he had made that TA crack out loud. 

"Chief, I'm sorry." 

"Save it.  Don't want to hear it.  Understand this.  I carry condoms.  I've _always_ carried condoms.  I was raised in a time where condoms were considered a good thing.  I've gone out with _women_ who carried condoms." 

"Fine, right... I get it.  Condoms." 

"I like to think that I'm a good lover, Jim.  And a considerate one.  Like once, I went out with this music student who thought my hands were a little too rough, so I always carried around this botanical moisturizer.  It was good for my hands, and she liked the way it smelled.  No big deal.  Simply prepared.  You, on the other hand, don't mind the occasional callus. And for the record, I got your boxers by accident that day when I grabbed an extra shirt from the laundry basket.  But, I do recognize that, with us, occasionally, the need for lube, among other things, might arise.  Why is that a bad thing?" 

"It's not.  We're just so different." 

"Look, I know that you've seen my sex life from the outside for a long time.  But that doesn't mean you can make assumptions.  Your marriage bit the dust, does that mean that I should assume that you couldn't stick it out with me for more than a year?" 

"In one way, we passed that mark long ago." 

"Yeah, in one way we did." 

"But this... I'm not the kind of guy that has sex in the basement of my workplace." 

"But you _did_ have sex in the basement of your workplace." 

"Yeah, with _you_... and really only to see if you'd be prepared." 

"Oh, fuck.  Not to make light of some of the best sex that I've ever had, but you have problems, man." 

"That's what I mean.  I'm not like you.  Why would you want to narrow your focus to someone that is like... _me_?" 

"Damn, James.  What is it with you?  Do you really think we're that different?  When I say 'I love you', do you think that we're coming from such totally different places that it doesn't mean the same thing?  Or maybe you think that I _don't_ mean it?" 

"No, Blair..." 

"So is it that you think that I'm not _in_ love with you?  'Cause you'd be wrong, man.  You know what I take out of here every day, Jim?  When you tell me that you love me, before we go out into the world to do our thing -- I take that with me.  That James Ellison is fucking in _love_ with me.  I thought you did, too." 

They hadn't touched during the entire conversation, but now Jim reached out, hoping to preserve some of their connection.  He knew damned well that he had screwed up, and he didn't trust words enough to make it right.  Blair didn't tense under his touch, and he drew hope from that, caressing the back of Blair's hand with his fingers, brushing the pulse at Blair's wrist with his thumb. 

"I need you to believe that I'm really in love with you.  Do you, Jim?" 

"Yeah, Chief.  I believe it." 

Blair moved his hand, but Jim wouldn't let it go... afraid to break the contact.  When it came to rest over his heart, there was a brief moment where Jim couldn't catch his breath. 

"In here, Jim.  You really believe it?" 

Jim nodded shakily. 

"Then you have to believe that I don't need anybody else.  I don't _want_ anybody else.  Okay?" 

"Okay.  I mean... I _know_ that.  Shit, I'm sorry about being....  I'm not jealous and insecure, really." 

"Sure you are." 

"Yeah, well, maybe a little.  But it's more like I've lived my whole life in these structured environments where being pragmatic is the rule, and nothing prepared me for someone like you.  You break all the rules for me, Chief." 

"I know that we're different, but we've made a hell of a team so far.  It's like when you come to a fork in a road and you have to make a choice which direction to go.  We're coming from the other way.  You from here... me from there... meeting up at the juncture, and now we're traveling the same road.  It's okay that you panicked a little.  We're both feeling our way here.  You just remember how calm I've been, when you have to deal with _my_ first manic episode." 

Jim smiled, taking Blair's hand from his chest and rubbing it between both of his own.  "Your _first_?  I think you've had a manic episode every day since I've known you." 

"Very funny, Ellison.  Okay, now here's where we see what you've learned.  Think very carefully before you speak, this is not a practice exam  it's the real thing, and counts for 100% of your grade.  Astrid, a visiting professor, has moved her tall, blond self smack dab into my field of vision, where her large, perfectly formed breasts come just at eye level when she stands next to me.  She is not so subtly letting me know that she's _very_ interested in sampling the Sandburg merchandise.  What do I do with her?" 

Jim shook his head, laughing softly.  "Sandburg, you are insane." 

"Fine, then consider this another of my many manic episodes, and answer the question." 

Sighing, Jim answered, "Nothing?" 

"Correct!  And why?" 

"Because you're insane?"  Blair's look made him reconsider his answer.  "Okay, because you're madly in love with me." 

"Not bad.  Last question.  After being kindly rebuffed by me, Astrid calls over her twin brother, Lars.  Also a visiting professor, also tall and blond, and with his own noticeably large attribute.  Now they are _both_ putting the moves on me.  What do I do?" 

"Tell them you're taken, and make your excuses, so you can run back to me."  Jim smiled, very pleased with himself. 

"I don't know, Jim.  That was shaping up to be a threesome.  Different story altogether, my man."  Blair was definitely more pleased with _himself_. 

But he had forgotten the Ellison ability to spring quickly into action.  Until he was suddenly pulled close up against Jim's hard body by a fist clutching the front of his shirt, positioned so that he was straddling Jim's thighs. 

"This is where you say, 'I was just joking, Jim'." 

Off guard, but not intimidated, Blair said, "No, this is where _you_ say, 'I know you were just joking, Chief.'" 

"I know you were just joking, Chief." 

"Good boy.  Are we cool now?" 

"No, we are definitely _not_ cool.  In fact, I think we are just about ready to heat up." 

He used the hand that was still full of Blair's shirt to bring the younger man close enough to kiss.  That Ellison-Sandburg kind of kiss that had been his undoing the first time that they had tried it out on each other.  That kiss that made everything just a little sweeter, a little brighter, a whole lot hotter.  His other hand had found its way inside of Blair's sweatpants, immediately touching bare skin, and they both found a sudden need to break for air. 

"Jim... promise me that you'll remember the conversation that we just had." 

"I promise.  I won't forget." 

"Okay.  Get naked... _now_." 

Blair got out of his sweats and tee shirt, lying back on the couch while Jim rid himself of his shirt and shorts.  When they were both finally undressed, Jim crawled on top of his lover, growling low in his ear. 

"Ready or not, here I come." 

As it turned out, Blair was indeed ready.  Having taken care of that right after dinner, when he thought that he was only going to spend a few minutes going over some notes for class the next day -- not spend the whole evening having a heart-to-heart with a panicky partner. 

Jim's hand slipped down to Blair's ass, discovering the slick evidence of how prepared his lover could actually be, but didn't question it.  Instead, he slid home with satisfaction. 

And he did come  right after Blair. 

When his head cleared, his first rational thought was, 'God, I hope Blair's _always_ going to be like this  ready to fuck at the drop of a hat.' 

* * *

End Ready or Not.

 


End file.
